


Oh My God, They Were Roomates! Part One

by VasaliaTheWise



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst to Fluff, Back after Ten Years, Birthday, Comfort, Drinking, F/M, Flashbacks, Flowers, Fluff, Fussing, I hope, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Mutual Pining, Restaurants, Reunion, Slow Burn, are you ready, because you will cry, clubs, cursing, hurt to comfort, roomates to lovers, time jumps, valentines day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:55:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22852855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VasaliaTheWise/pseuds/VasaliaTheWise
Summary: After a decade apart you reunite with your old roommate, Roger Taylor, now a famous drummer, with something pressing your mind. This will be released in two parts.
Relationships: Roger Taylor (Queen)/Reader, Roger Taylor (Queen)/You
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

You saw him drumming to a crowd of millions screaming. The way his hands could trip around and flexibly turn to hit every tip of a drum at a moment’s notice made them crazy. His face was a little dark, his eyes shining. Women especially loved it when he leaned to the microphone and let out a voice that though meant to harmonize had a seductive, raspy quality. 

You heard more often that voice complaining about how the electricity went off so he couldn’t make soup. Then his other roommate said it was because of the electricity bill. So then you both let them settle for toast.

That same roommate, he was of average height. You remembered his dark, shiny bob that flounced when he walked. His clothes were often decked in deep, jewel tones and in velvet-like fabrics. Now his hair was short. His clean face was a curt mustache. His luxurious feathers and faux furs, hiding a skinny, hungry body was now replaced by tight shorts, wife beater shirts displaying muscular arms. 

He was singing a slow, heartfelt song. The more you listened to it, the more you wanted to cry. You even felt a few tears escape your eyes every time you looked toward the drum section. 

"Too much love will kill you  
Just as sure as none at all  
It’ll drain the power that’s in you  
Make you plead and scream and crawl  
And the pain will make you crazy  
You’re the victim of your crime  
Too much love will kill you every time"

"No…no I can’t, I won’t think of it…"  
You thought the singer couldn’t be that other roommate you had a while ago. Though his voice could not lie, and especially not his teeth.

“That was our brilliant Rog, on the drums!” Fred announced.

Roger stuck up his yellow head and bowed a little.

“He’s a bit tired, but doing his best! Saving his energy for later tonight, ladies!” Fred commented with a cheeky wink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
“Roger, get up!” you urged, creaking his door open.

“Nooooooooo” cried a lump covered by red bedsheets.

“You have work!”

“Don’t wanna”

“How old are you?”“

“You’re not my mum, Y/N!”

“Okay, do you want to be thrown out and live in a car?”

“Wouldn’t be too bad!”

“You huffed and went out to the kitchen. It was about to be opening hours for the stall. But yet…the empty beer bottles on the floor had provided at least half of the owners of that stall a hangover preventing them from that basic necessity of getting up.

“Well, Rog, it’s your decision…”

“Wait!”You heard footsteps scramble up and then his yellow head poked out to you.

“Could you get me some water? And medicine first, please?” he asked.

There was something about his shining blue eyes and the way he bit his lip when he asked that made a no impossible.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
The guard would normally not let a single person in. But most performers onstage didn’t tap his shoulder asking him to let the person in. 

Thankfully, Roger had good timing. The guard tipped his hat and undid the ropes as you walked in. 

Roger yelled out your name and you hugged him at once. He took in a deep breath, feeling that even your smell had not changed. You felt the sweat on his body from performing and tried not to stare that his black shirt was now open and bare. 

“Oh my god…how are you! I never thought…oh my god” he just kept repeating. He escorted you backstage, swinging an arm over your shoulder.   
“I thought the pass would never work” you confessed, looking down at the large ticket with Roger’s own hand. 

“But it’s my hand, I thought he’d let you through.” 

“I doubt it! Something like this is really easy to fake!” you answer, wagging it in front of his face. 

Roger grinned halfway, his teeth showing.

“Doesn’t matter, I’ve missed you so much!” 

“Me too…” you confessed, your eyes glanced down to the floor in a sudden bout of shyness with Roger’s following. 

“Wanna meet the others? Fred will absolutely lose it!” Roger suggested.   
As you nodded, he grabbed your hand and led you away. That grip hadn’t changed much.

“I thought the pass would never work” you confessed, looking down at the large ticket with Roger’s own hand. 

“But it’s my hand, I thought he’d let you through.” 

“I doubt it! Something like this is really easy to fake!” you answer, wagging it in front of his face. 

Roger grinned halfway, his teeth showing.

“Doesn’t matter, I’ve missed you so much!” 

“Me too…” you confessed, your eyes glanced down to the floor in a sudden bout of shyness with Roger’s following. 

“Wanna meet the others? Fred will absolutely lose it!” Roger suggested.   
As you nodded, he grabbed your hand and led you away. That grip hadn’t changed much.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`  
“Y/N! Get over here, you’re crying! ”Roger insisted, yanking your hand closer.

You waddled forward, wiping away your tears, feeling much younger and weaker than you really were. It was the sort of cry that you could not contain or hide no matter what you did. You felt ashamed, Roger was not a sap in any way.

He sat you down on the couch and draped one of the blankets over your shoulders. You noticed it was a purple blanket with an eastern pattern on it. That was Fred’s favorite. The one he always claimed when it got colder.

“Roger, where’s Freddie?” you asked gingerly.

“He’s on a date, he’ll be gone for a while. What’s wrong, love?” Roger asked.

You fought back the urge to blush at the use of “love.” But you pushed it away. That term only meant something if you were a girl Roger brought home. Imagining the sounds of his late-night stands forced you into reality.

“I…it’s my job. I’m just…so tired, all the time. All I do is work and then when I get home it never ends, I work some more…I’m just tired!” you confessed. You pulled the blanket closer around you. It smelled a bit like Fred’s shampoo.

“You’re just tired, Y/N. You’re a harder worker then I or Fred combined. You need to rest.”

He listened to your rants and got up to get water. Not an offer to smoke anything. No vodka. Just water.

But it was the best tasting water you had ever had. And he listened to everything.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`  
The car stopped and you both hopped off at the diner. It was not a fancy place. Dirt-cheap. The sign had bright neon letters that sometimes flickered a little like the night stars. Who would have known that the drummer of one of the most renowned bands of all time would go there?

“I…I haven’t eaten here in years.” You say gingerly. 

You ordered a hot chocolate and french fries for two for the cold night after you sat down.

“I know it’s your favorite,” Roger cooed with a half-grin. “And I’m always deep in the back, anyway. You can only see a bit of my head if you squint.”

“You always seem to know me well” you praise him. You pick up a spoon to start eating the whipped cream on your hot chocolate but notice it’s dirty. Grimacing, you set it down.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
You woke up late that morning. Last night, you had been up, crying. You were getting older and about to spend a birthday alone. Your family couldn’t do anything, your friends were busy and you didn’t want to busy them. You delayed getting out of bed for a long time.

But as you walked into the kitchen, there was a blue vase filled with the most bright, beautiful sunflowers you had ever seen. Your breath was hitched. Moving aside the gifts you found a note.

“Happy birthday love! We had to run to get to the stall on time! But enjoy the gifts! It will be a long day, but your boys will be back to hug you soon! Let’s go out tonight, we promise!

Your loves,

Roger and Freddie.”

That was the last time you really ate at a restaurant with Roger was that birthday dinner with Fred. They both brought up what pennies they could just to take you to a nice-ish place where the napkins were clean and the food didn’t look a week old. Eating just enough for your high waisted pants to feel only slightly tighter. 

Then they both practically pulled you out to a club. Music and cheering drowned in your ears. The alcohol burned your throat as you inhaled your second shot and raced Fred to the dance floor. A disco dipped above you, glimmering all over your hands in a way that made you seem spotted. Little flecks traveled from across the floor to even the ends of your silk top. 

You and Fred almost swung dance, nearly cheek-to-cheek like in one of those old movies Freddie was addicted to. Roger only made a fake gagging noise at the suggestion of it. But he insisted on a dance with you too. Despite the pain starting to ache from your heeled shoes, you nodded yes. 

It wasn’t a slow song, in fact, it was very fast. But at one point Roger put his waist around yours for a minute and you didn’t object. The next morning, you didn’t even bring it up.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	2. Oh My God, They Were Roomates! Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Roger Taylor roomed together in the seventies. Ten years later you return, and he's gone to be the famous drummer of his dreams. But you have something you have to say to him...

Roger folded his hands and looked at you, beneath his brows were those two blue eyes that still made you a little weak inside to this day. You sat next to a window darkened with the freezing winter night.

Why were you so weak? Maybe you wouldn’t be in this position if you were stronger if you could just go right now to a payphone, dial the number and tell him…

No, not yet.

“You always knew all my favorites. Like remember my birthday?” you asked.

He bit his lower lip. “Yeah, I do. Doesn’t feel like a decade, does it?” he said.

The hour was filled with the band and Roger. His now ex-wife, his children, the music videos with the most ridiculous costumes.

“But what about you? I must know, Y/N! I’ve missed you so much, I…”

“Roger, I got a proposal. And I have to answer him by morning.” You blurt out.

There is a bit of silence.

“Really? Was it the fellow you left us to live with?” he asked, he went from leaning in his chair to getting closer to your face.

“No, it’s someone else” you answer. You wrap your hands around your mug for a last bit of warmth. Chewing your lips nervously, you wait for Roger to respond.

Roger looks out the window and then his eyes dart around, looking for an answer.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
“But Y/N, are you sure about this!” Roger asked, just at the step of going into your room.

“Yes! The rent will be cheaper! You guys needn’t worry about me, I’m not dropping off the face of the planet, I’ll be a phone call away!” you swear, laughing as you toss in a few socks into your luggage.

“But who else is Fred gonna dress up and swing around bars!?” he whined, taking a few steps with a shyness odd for him.

“You of course. Everyone thinks you’re a girl anyhow!” you tease as you look up for him.

Roger huffs, drawing a hand to his chin to examine for masculine scruffiness.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`~  
“Well, do you wanna marry him? Is he the love of your life?” he questions.

You look down into your empty mug. Words are forming at the tip of your tongue and they gurgle out.

“I…I don’t…I don’t know.” You stutter. “I know it’s what he wants. He tells me it’ll make him the happiest man in the world if I say yes…”

“And you have to answer by morning?” Roger then adds on. You notice his hand has slid across the table and has balled into a fist.

“He’s an impatient guy and…I…I didn’t want to hurt him. I…” tears start to well up before you can stop them. You feel idiotic to let it spill in front of a person you know isn’t emotional, but it seems like your id has taken the wheel, driving it further into chaos.

“I didn’t want to be the bitch that broke the man’s heart!” you confide.

You pitifully reach for papery napkins as half-useful tissues as Roger pats your hand and shushes you. A concerned waitress wonders if you are alright and Roger only orders for a glass of water. You feel her maternal hand rest on you for a bit until your water arrives.

It’s ice cold. Shivering, you gulp it down and put on your jacket. But the water has chilled your whole body and walking out into the February air was not an improvement. So Roger’s arm looping around you felt welcome.

You savored his touch. His musky smell, even if it was mixed with sweat. This was probably the last hour you would ever have with him. 

“I got something that’ll make you feel better! Have you noticed the backseat of the car?” he chirruped, wagging his eyebrows.

“No” you whisper.

“Good”

Roger opens his jacket to reveal three sunflowers.

“I know they’re your favorite,” he says.

Your smile keeps growing. But your words pop out before you catch them.

“The thing is..it’s him I don’t love, it’s you! It’s always been you!” you finally burst out.

Rogers grasp lets go and he dropped the flowers, swearing and scrambling to get them up.

“Then…well…uh…” his face kept switching between pale and pink. “Just…how long?”

“I have loved you since I agreed to move in with you. I have loved you from the moment I kept waking you up to work because I was scared for you, from when you gave me those birthday gifts when you hugged me. And yes, I moved out, but all I could think of was you. All those embraces, I still feel them, but you were in a band! Getting famous! And most of all, women were all over you! Why would you even choose me?” you blurt, tears welling up from years of silence.

You pause a bit. 

Before Roger could even say another word you shush him and finish.

“It’s just…I know you don’t love me…and saying goodbye to you is always the hardest thing in the world to me.” you mourn, finally letting the tears win. 

He shushed you and then guided you to the car and drove you home. But as soon as you were home, a phone rang. Roger walked over to answer it and heard a deep, masculine voice croak.

“Have you made your mind up, cunt?”

Roger almost couldn’t answer. His jaw dropped and his grip on the phone tightened.

He squeaked out “I’m sorry.” 

It sounded almost like his falsetto melismas. And it seemed the guy thought that it was you because his voice was rising to where you heard every word even though it wasn’t on speaker.

“No, you’re not. You’re playing a game with me. And I’m fucking done. So tell me, are you gonna marry me or not? I know damn well what the answer is. So let’s spit it out and start planning, okay? We have a damn wedding to get through. Isn’t your pretty princess wedding what you’ve wanted?” he threatened. 

Roger stood up straighter and switched to his normal voice.

“Hello, this is Y/N’s boyfriend now. She’s dumped you. And the answer is no. Don’t talk to her again or else you’re a dead man walking.” Roger growled before hanging up the phone.

The next morning you woke up normally. It seemed normal in your house. But looking at the blond head turning over to smile at you was an exception.

“Shit! Yesterday was Valentine’s Day! I completely forgot! I just gave you some sunflowers, not a real present!” Roger cursed, he brought up his hands to rub the sand from his eyes.

“You’re my present, Rog!” you insist, giving him a peck on the cheek. He smiled and opened his arms to let you snuggle in.

Looking over at the sunflowers next to you, they seem even fresher and brighter than yesterday. Their white vase makes their yellow brighter. The big black centers have even turned towards the sun making it’s daily journey above you to the east. 

“Got anything today?” he asked sleepily, rubbing your back.

“No, but…I’m a bit hungry. Can I cook you some stuff today? I have some bacon and eggs…I can show you how to make an omelet. It’s not hard at all.” you suggest.

The golden light of the morning crept in, though the room still felt cold with winter air from outside.

“I was remembering what you said that saying goodbye was the hardest thing…” he began.

You nodded, letting your headrest to feel his heartbeat go faster.

“Well, now you’ll never have to…” Roger whispered. “Because loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”


End file.
